


Host Club XIII

by cameronclaire



Category: Kingdom Hearts, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Cross Dressing Xion, Excessive Dessert Consumption, F/F, F/M, Hybrid Characters, M/M, Org/Hosts, commoners, general nonsense, rich people, ridiculous costumes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20739404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cameronclaire/pseuds/cameronclaire
Summary: In which I replace the Ouran Academy Host Club with Organization XIII members and nothing changes.





	Host Club XIII

**Author's Note:**

> This one is just for funsies.
> 
> I don't know when if ever, I will update this. But knowing me, I probably will?

Xion robs Roxas’ closet on the regular these days. Narrow-legged khaki trousers, oversized sweaters, thin long-sleeved button downs, skinny ties, vests, crew socks, the oversized glasses _ he _ actually _ needs. _ Nothing is sacred. 

The worst thing is, what with her petite, manic pixie dream girl features, soft curves, and sweet smile, Xion manages to look better in these things than Roxas does. 

Like more of a man, even, according to Axel. Not that Roxas had asked. 

_ So fuck Xion, basically. _

Or he_ would _ be saying fuck Xion, if she weren’t the only tolerable human in his entire, godforsaken new school. 

He recalls what Axel had said during his tour: _ Welcome to Walt Disney Academy, home to the super elite, rich, snobby, and beautiful. Now home to you, and the handful of other scholarship students that we accept to make ourselves look charitable. _

“Uh-oh,” Xion coos with a knowing smile, as if she can read his thoughts—his new little sister, hanging on his locker door, as if she has been doing so for years. “You’ve got that look again.”

“It’s fine,” Roxas grumbles, sorting through textbooks, trying to remember the science homework, wishing his chem partner were anyone except some devil-may-care, slacker red-head.

Although, to be fair, said red-head just so happens to be the only other tolerable human at the school. Because he:

a.) actually speaks to Roxas, despite the fact that his parents aren’t billionaires

b.) likes decent music, with only a few cringey exceptions

c.) is, objectively speaking, drop-dead gorgeous

It’s just Roxas is pissed at him at the moment for saying:

a.) “I don’t really have time to do my half the project tonight, I got work.”

b.) “Think you can finish it up for us, partner?”

And later, after Roxas had agreed, before the end of class, with a casual wave of his fingertips:

c.) “Alright, catch you later, twink.” 

Roxas hadn’t been able to formulate a coherent reply, and Axel hadn’t waited for it.

Xion’s still watching him thoughtfully. “It’s that ‘Why did my father have to marry your mother and stick me with a sibling that I didn’t ask for even though she’s actually pretty cool, I guess’ look.”  
  
“No, it isn’t. It’s fine,” Roxas insists more softly, shifting his locker door shut and meeting wide blue eyes, trying harder to smile. “You just really should have asked me.”

“What,” she glances down, flicks at the short white tie dipping down her black blouse, ornamented with a tiny glass blue stud, “is this your _ favorite _ tie tack?” She chuckles at his flinch. 

“I…” Roxas rolls his eyes, shifting his bookbag up his shoulder. “No,” he lies. “But that…” he reaches out and taps the thick black case in her free hand, the one with all the Struggle Match stickers he and Hayner had collected before Roxas moved across the ocean. “You just really should have asked before you borrowed my violin.” 

“Surprise!” She lights up with a grin, like some kind of human sunflower. “Who said I was borrowing your violin?”

Which is how he winds up letting Xion drag him up three flights of pretentious marble stairs toward some pretentious spare music room of this pretentious school.

“There’s a piano there. We can finally play that duet,” she’s insisted about twenty times now, in response to Roxas’ equal number of suggestions that they stop searching for the music room, call it a day, and head home. He’s got two halves of a chem project to do after all. 

He thinks she’s finally about to agree when she stands stock still in the middle of the hallway and points like some kind of possessed chick in a horror movie. 

Sure enough, a conveniently located sign on the unremarkable door they have strode past thirty times reads “Music Room 3”. 

And okay fine, he guesses it would be nice to finally get to hear his sister, the piano prodigy, _ play _ the piano. Especially considering the impromptu funeral the moving crew had had to throw for the family’s previous one.

Xion nudges the door open to pitch blackness, but even after taking a few cautious steps inside, doesn’t manage to trigger the automatic lights. 

Roxas follows her past the door frame and a few steps in. “Maybe they blew a fuse?” 

“In _ this _ place?” 

Xion has a point. Most of Walt Disney Academy runs like clockwork, like the ostentatious clock tower in the center of campus that rises above it all. 

Xion hums. “Maybe this just isn’t the right spot.” 

Reaching her hands out to grasp his, she swings him around in a childish dance—and then his side collides with something heavy and blunt and they are crashing down to the tune of broken china. 

The automatic lights flicker on and in the distance a door is thrown open so hard it smacks a wall. 

Rapid footsteps pound in his ears as the edges of Roxas’ vision blur and itching, stinging sensations crawl down his arms, stomach, legs.

A sharp intake of breath and then a piece of the powder blue haze above him breaks off and approaches him. 

“Jesus, Haninozuka,” it hisses, kneeling down, one of its hands clasping Roxas Haninozuka’s cheek, “are you alright?”


End file.
